


Not Gone But Forgotten

by samos7



Series: Effects of Amnesia [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, BAMF Peter Parker, Gen, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Electroconvulsive Therapy, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Endgame, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:07:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23832844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samos7/pseuds/samos7
Summary: Peter and Tony are kidnapped and willing to do anything to protect one another.Until one of them isn't.~“I get it, you’re starstruck- not sure how to handle yourself.”“Excuse me,” Peter begins to defend himself but he's blatantly ignored as Tony talks over him.“Look, I promise to take a picture with you when all of this is over, I’ll even offer you an autograph- but first I need any information you know that can get us out of here.”Peter is completely lost, but at the same time he isn’t. He already knows the answer when he asks his next question.“Mister Stark, do you know who I am?”Tony gives a baffled look in return, “have we met before?”And that was all the confirmation Peter needed. He feels his heart drop to his stomach as the realization strikes him, and he’s certain that he’s gone pale in the face.Tony doesn’t remember him.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Effects of Amnesia [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1729879
Comments: 138
Kudos: 621





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I was scrolling through the fanfiction tab when I saw one posted a couple days ago by Solstice called Shock Therapy. I haven’t read it but the description is similar to this one. I thought I would clarify that I haven’t seen this fic at all before writing mine (not that literally anyone has accused me of that, but for some reason I feel guilty). 
> 
> I wanted to write a fanfic on amnesia for a while now and when I searched Wikipedia for some causes, electroconvulsive therapy was one of the first results. From there I went with it, but I do apologize for stealing an idea even if it was unintentional 
> 
> Anyway, if you’re interested go check theirs out, I’m going to read it as well when I’m done writing this one! 
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/23655373

Peter wakes up confused and disoriented. 

Despite his heavy eyelids and strong headache, he tries to find his bearings as he sits up from the cold granite. Judging from the cell walls, Peter assumes that he had managed to get himself kidnapped. His Spider-Sense wasn't going off, so he was probably safe for now. 

He attempts to remember how he had gotten stuck in this situation, but can't register anything rather than his blurry vision and the need to throw up. However, he refuses to let the panic show on his face in case someone was watching him. 

He grabs on to the nearest wall and forces his hand to stick onto it. Then, he pulls himself forward and ignores the sudden wave of dizziness he feels. It's only then when he opens his eyes that he realizes he isn't alone in the cell. 

Tony Stark lays across from him, seemingly unconscious and unaware of their surroundings. Peter takes a closer look only to notice a complexion far too pale to not be concerning.

A thought enters his mind without meaning to, and he suddenly feels nauseous for an entirely different reason. 

Tony looks like a dead corpse. 

Peter uses all of the strength he can muster to crawl over to Tony. It takes most of his energy and leaves him breathless despite only being a couple of feet away from one another. Once he's peering over him, he takes a trembling hand and presses it firmly against Tony's neck, desperate to find a pulse point. 

When he feels a heartbeat pounding steadily against his fingertips, he breathes out a wet sigh of relief. 

Peter leans back so his body is supported by the wall. Then, once he is properly upright, he readjusts Tony so his head is resting against his lap, hoping that at the very least he won't wake up with neck pains. 

He knew if Tony were awake right now he would have found the gesture to be completely ridiculous, despite doing the exact same thing if the roles were reversed. The idea brings Peter comfort as he leans his head back and closes his eyes, willing his breaths to even out.

If he wanted to get himself and Tony out of here, he would have to find some way to feel better. He could easily break out of the cell using super strength, but it was impossible to tell if he had been kidnapped as Peter Parker or Spider-Man. 

Peter was wearing an old MIT hoodie and grey sweatpants, so there was a good possibility that his secret identity was unknown. It could be used to their advantage while they fight their opponent. 

If only he knew who their opponent was. 

Peter didn't have to wonder for very long, however. After what had felt like hours with his growing headache, but had to have been mere minutes judging from the way Tony hadn't moved, a door across the cell slams open and a woman with black stilettos enters the room, followed by two burly men close to her side. 

"You're not supposed to be awake," the woman says with a thick accent. 

Peter blinks up at her, and it takes a moment for the words to process in his brain. She peers down at him with a combination of disapproval and curiosity that causes the hairs on his arm to stand straight up. 

Despite all of his senses telling him to hide, he meets her gaze and offers a simple shrug in response. The woman looks unimpressed as she tries again. 

"The drugs were supposed to knock you out for at least another two hours, how are you conscious?" 

Peter has plenty of experience interacting with villains as Spider-Man. Usually, he could easily create a banter that was both intuitive and entertaining for himself. However, any confidence he usually had completely vanished now that he didn't have his mask to rely on.

He wished that Tony were awake right now, he would have known exactly how to respond in a way that didn't make Peter look suspicious.

He also wished he was better at hiding his fear, but with the unknown substance filtering through his system combined with the natural response to being kidnapped, Peter was certain that his emotions were clearly written on his face. 

Much to Peter's surprise, the woman opens the cell door when she doesn't receive an answer. Her and the guards walk forward until she bends down and reaches Peter at eye level. He holds onto Tony a little closer, hoping they’ll leave him alone while he’s still in this vulnerable state. 

"What's your name honey,” she asks in a surprisingly light tone. 

The nickname causes anger to rise, and Peter offers the best glare he can muster as he finally speaks up. 

"Don't call me honey." The woman simply laughs at Peter's demand, completely ignoring it as she moves to caress his cheek. Her hand is soft and dainty, yet it feels wrong as it brushes against his skin. 

"I have a daughter around your age, I think the two of you would get along well."

Peter was confused by the admission, but before he can think too much on it he is distracted by fingers tightening around his jawline. Her whole demeanor has changed, and now there was something ruthless in her eyes. He’s suddenly yanked forward so the two of them are face-to-face.

"I don't know what your relation to Tony Stark is, and frankly, I don't care. You weren't supposed to be a part of this but you got in the way- we had to make some fast calls."

Peter doesn't remember what he did to get in the way, though he knows he would make the same decision if he were given the opportunity. It was obvious that the woman had a personal vendetta against Tony solely from the way she spits out his name.

"That being said, I can be a compassionate person if I want to be, so listen closely- I'm only offering this once. We can send you back to where you came from, however, you will be closely monitored throughout the process. If you even think of returning with authorities I will shoot Stark with no hesitation." 

Peter wonders if he pretends to agree with the negotiation if he would be able to take out the two guards. He had the element of surprise on his side, but he doubted that he would be able to properly attack while he still felt disoriented from the remnants of drugs.

He could also track where the guards take him and later return with backup from the remaining Avengers, though that would assume that the guards wouldn't push any more drugs into his system, which was unlikely.

If they had a substance strong enough to knock out Spider-Man without trying, then he doesn't want to think about what else they'd have that could be used against him. 

Or more importantly, used against Tony. 

Peter has his healing factor to take into account, he would be able to handle many more blows than Tony could, given his current state. It was helping them already, judging by the shocked reactions they had when seeing Peter awake so soon. There was no way he could leave Tony alone in the cell; to abandon his side now would be too much of a risk. 

So, Peter pretends to consider the offer for a few seconds before head-butting the woman square in the face. The impact causes his headache to increase tenfold, though it's worth it as he watches the woman flinch back. Her expression contorts in pain before she gives a look that could shoot daggers. His Spider-Sense yells at him to run, yet he sticks his ground as he holds Tony closer to his side. 

"I'm staying," he proclaims, hoping to resemble some sort of hero. 

The woman opens her mouth only to close it seconds later. She looks at Peter up and down before offering a smile that shakes him to the core. 

"Remember this opportunity you had while you're begging for your life." 

And with that, she turns to leave with the two guards close to stow. The sound of heels clicking against the granite floor rings in Peter's ears and amplifies the ache in his head. 

It's not until the door slams shut that Peter remembers to breathe, holding Tony's lifeless body close in an attempt to comfort himself. 

\+ + + 

It takes a few hours for the drugs to wear off of Tony.

He watches with a close eye as Tony begins to stir on his lap, and he's pleased to find some color back on his face after hours of waiting. Tony lets out a pained grunt and slowly opens his eyes, only to squeeze them shut seconds later. It vaguely resembles an infant opening their eyes for the first time, and the imagery causes a small chuckle to rise out of Peter, despite the situation. 

That is what finally causes Tony to open his eyes completely. He takes one good look at Peter and offers a lazy smile in his direction before sensing that something was off. He glances forward at the grey ceiling, then the cell walls, and Peter counts eleven seconds before Tony fully registers what was going on.

He jumps out of Peter's lap in a rigorous manner, only to haphazardly lean to the side once he was up. Peter is on his feet in an instant, catching Tony before he face-plants into the unforgiving ground. 

"How about we relax for a second?" 

Tony shakes his head in response, yet still allows Peter to help him sit back down. Once he is rooted on the floor, he takes another look at Peter, this time checking for injuries. There was something confused and desperate in his eyes, and Peter feels nothing but guilt as he hears Tony's heart-rate begin to unnaturally pick up.

"Mister Stark, I don't think you're relaxing."

Finally, Tony finds his voice. 

"What are you doing here?" Peter decides to ignore the bite in his tone.

"I'm not sure, but there was a woman here earlier that seemed pretty upset with you."

"Did she say what she wanted?"

"I was kinda hoping you would know." 

Tony pauses to consider this before examining Peter. He notices tension in the boy's shoulders that should never be there. With that thought in mind, Tony forces himself to take a calculated, measured breath to gain control of the mess they were in.

"Okay, that's okay- how long have I been out?" 

"Um, probably an hour or so, I'm not exactly sure." 

Tony nods, and his facial features twist together in a way that Peter has never seen before. The next words that come out of his mouth are so quiet that if Peter didn't have super hearing he would have never heard it.

"Do they know about Spider-Man?" 

Peter shakes his head and watches with curiosity as Tony seems to visibly calm down. 

"Good, let's keep it that way." 

Peter is ready to agree, but he is distracted when his Spider-Sense goes off. He has no time to warn Tony as the door slams open, and seconds later he's being roughly pushed to the side so Tony was standing in front of him, shielding his body away from the woman and two bodyguards. 

Automatically, Peter notices a purple bruise on the woman's forehead and he can't help but smile, feeling a rush of pride in his chest. 

Tony is unrecognizable from a few minutes prior. He stands tall and confidently as the visitors approach the cell, and Peter can't help but feel in awe of how quickly Tony is able to command the room, despite being on the losing end. 

"And to what do I owe the displeasure?" 

The woman simply glares in response, "we need something from you." 

Peter can't see Tony's face from where he was standing, but he assumes that he rolls his eyes, "you and half of the universe, get in line." 

"Now is not the time to play daft with us, Stark."

Tony actually laughs at that, "look, let me save you some time, I don't know what you want from me but the answer is no. You think you're the first person to blackmail Iron Man?"

"I think I'm more dangerous than your previous enemies."

"You mean like Thanos? For some reason, I doubt that." 

The woman opens her mouth to respond, but is stopped as one of the guards leans forward and whispers in her ear. Peter zeroes in on the conversation but almost wishes he hadn't.

"Stark seems to care an awful lot for the boy, threaten his life and he should be compliant." 

The woman takes the suggestion with stride as she brings her attention to Peter, not wasting a second.

"I've never learned your name sweetheart." 

"Leave him out of this," and just like that Tony's arrogant persona is diminished.

The woman smiles wide. 

"You know, I've seen plenty of articles about the Great Tony Stark, savior of the universe, but they speak nothing of your relationship with a boy- is he your son?"

"I don't know him," Tony tries, but his claim is ignored.

"I certainly see the resemblance- and I must say, it's impressive how you've managed to keep him a secret for this long."

Tony shakes his head, visibly fuming with rage. "He's not my son- he's an innocent bystander who has no reason to be here." 

"And I don't disagree with you, I gave him the opportunity to escape unharmed yet he blatantly refused my offer." 

For the first time since the visitors had entered the cell, Tony actually directs his attention to Peter, clearly furious as he still talks to the woman. "I’d like to hope no one would be that idiotic." 

"Ah, but he is. I wouldn’t worry about it however, I’d just be grateful that we didn't take your daughter instead." 

Something reveals itself in Tony’s face while he's still looking at Peter, though the expression disappears as soon as it arrives. He turns back to the woman with new resolve, clearly hearing the unspoken threat in her words. 

"What do you want from me?"

The woman has the audacity to smirk, and Peter fights the urge to punch the look off her face. 

"How familiar are you with ECT?" 

Peter knew quite a bit about it. He remembers sitting on his computer years prior, stumbling across electroconvulsive therapy a couple of weeks after Ben's funeral. The procedure entails small electric currents that trigger a brief seizure, working to rewrite a person's brain chemistry. It's traditionally used to cure depression without the supply of medication. 

He also remembers reading the side effects of ECT: short and long term memory loss as well as a rise in heart rate and blood pressure. It was strongly advised for anyone with severe heart problems to avoid following through with the procedure.

In other words, Tony was screwed. 

Tony must come to the same realization because his posture changes the slightest bit. If Peter didn’t know him so well he would have never noticed the ticks of anxiety radiating off of the man. All of his movements are subtle, easily camouflaged by the caricature he plays of himself.

Peter can’t help but feel jealous as he visibly halts, terrified to hear what they were planning to do. 

Despite everything, Tony answers calmly.

”I’m familiar.”

"Perfect, then we'll start tomorrow morning."

And with that, she turns to leave, offering no further information as she waltzes out of the room. Tony waits a full minute before taking a deep breath, facing Peter once more through anger and distress.

"You had the chance to leave and you _didn't_?"

"Of course not, I wasn't about to just leave you here." 

Tony doesn't respond, instead, he stares at Peter with a look that screams rage. 

Peter has seen Tony upset with him countless times in the past. Throughout the years of knowing one another they have argued over everything: from the most mundane topics while working in the lab to the most heated fights in the middle of the battlefield. While they never see eye-to-eye, there was always a level of understanding even after the worst of disagreements. 

Due to this, Peter had been expecting this reaction, but there was something different this time around. 

Underneath all of the anger, there was pure, unadulterated fear that hasn’t left since the moment he realized they were trapped. Peter thinks that if Tony were alone in the prison, he would be much less afraid of what were to come. 

Still, he masks his terror with vexation as he crosses his arms together and raises an eyebrow expectantly. 

Peter blinks back at him, “did you say something?” 

Tony groans.

“Sorry, sorry- I’m listening now!”

He moves a hand so it’s pinching the bridge of his nose. “Is there any way to get you out of here?” 

“I’m not sure, but I have a friend that might be able to break us out,” Peter says this while raising his hand, mimicking his web-shooters. Tony simply glares back. 

“Your friend is staying out of this, it’s not safe for him.” 

“He’s probably in danger either way.” 

“But less so if he’s hidden.”

“What if he doesn’t want to hide?”

 _“He doesn’t have a choice.”_

Peter flinches back as the words are practically screamed at him. There’s a flash of regret on Tony’s face, but it’s quick to become stern only seconds later. 

“This isn’t up for debate, you should have left while you had the chance.” 

Peter tries not to let the words hurt him, yet he’s nothing but embarrassed as his eyes unexpectedly begin to water. He wipes the tears as quickly as he can, attempting to hide them from Tony. 

It doesn’t work, and he hears a soft sigh from across the cell. 

“Though I guess beggars can’t be choosers- come here kiddo.” 

He feels like a child as he practically stumbles into Tony’s open arms. No other tears fall, but he can’t help but lean into the comfort of his touch as he feels a hand begin to comb through his hair. 

“I’ll make sure you're safe no matter what, I promise,” Tony whispers into his ear. 

The admission was supposed to reassure Peter, though it wasn’t himself he was worried about. 


	2. Chapter 2

Peter paces back and forth the confided cell space, trying yet failing to ignore the sound of each electrical shock and stifled moan from the other side of the door.

It had been almost an hour since the guards had dragged Tony away to begin their experimentation. Peter can practically feel every zap of pain from the way his sixth sense goes off right before it happens. 

Without thinking, he begins to pace the walls, somehow making it all the way up to the ceiling before realizing his mistake. 

He hops down as fast as he can, landing gracelessly and almost twisting his ankle in the process. He spins around but no one comes to question him. 

Peter sighs before his body tenses, Spider-Sense flailing up once more. It was a sensation that he was beginning to grow used too.

By the time the session was over, Peter was just as tired and drained as Tony, though he ignored the ache in his bones as the door slams open. The two guards practically throw Tony back into the cell, and Peter moves to action. 

He catches Tony before he’s knocked into the wall and holds him upright. He examines the damage and is pleasantly surprised to see no blood or bruises today. His relief only lasts for a few seconds however.

Instead, there are indescribable red marks on each side of Tony’s head that only seem to be getting worse. Peter goes to touch the injury, but his hand is swatted away before he can do so. 

“Alright, none of that.” 

“Mister Stark, are you okay?” 

Tony rolls his eyes, "Feeling peachy, how about yourself?" 

Peter ignores the sarcasm as he gently urges Tony to sit down. He pushes back in response, clearly irritated. 

"I said I'm fine." 

"Your hands are shaking."

Tony looks down to examine his palms, as if he hadn't noticed them before. He clenches them into fists, only to accept defeat when he leans his back against the wall and slides down. Peter quickly follows suit so the two of them are sitting next to each other, and Tony doesn't hesitate to wrap an arm around his shoulders. 

"They didn't do anything to you while I was gone, did they?"

Peter shakes his head, "didn't even look at me." 

"Good." 

It's silent for a minute or two, and Peter uses the opportunity to listen to Tony's heart-rate for what feels like the hundredth time this past week, ensuring that everything was functioning properly. He doesn't know what he would have done if something was irregular- it's not like he had the supplies or knowledge to help either of them.

For now, he considers it a small miracle.

"You need to sleep more." 

As if snapped out of a trance, Peter flinches back despite the soft voice Tony was using. He meets eye contact only to notice worry laced in his features, and Peter can't help but chuckle at the irony of it all.

"I'm not the one being tortured."

"One has nothing to do with the other. Seriously Pete, have you been resting at all?" 

Peter has to physically bite his tongue to prevent laughing out loud, as if sleep was even an option while trapped in the cell. More often than not, Tony was with their captors, continuously being treated like a lab rat as they practically shock the life out of him. Neither of them knew what information they were attempting to gather or why Tony Stark was such a key factor to the experiments, but Tony had practically begged Peter early on to not ask any questions. 

It's clear to everyone that Tony was only concerned about Peter's well being, and the observation has been used against him countless times. If there was an instance where Tony began to give attitude, they would turn to Peter instantly, grabbing him by the hair and physically dragging him out of the cell until Tony was obedient. The amount of times where a gun had been pressed against Peter's head this past week alone has to fulfill some sort of world record. 

He hates being used as leverage, despises the way Tony gives in so easily.

Tony has always cared about Peter, it would be naive to assume otherwise, but he didn't think he would ever get used to how openly affectionate Tony was now. It had been a few months since Tony had succeeded in reversing the snap, and since then Peter has noticed little details that weren't there before - like the way Tony effortlessly goes in for hugs, or the way Peter catches him staring at him now and again, or right now when Tony squeezes his shoulder because he recognizes that he is stressed. 

Peter would never admit it out loud, but it's a nice feeling to know that he was missed while he was gone.

He takes another look at Tony and sees that same glint in his eyes, the one that tells him that he would do anything to make sure Peter was okay.

So, he lies- not wanting to cause any more problems.

"Of course I sleep, it's not like there's anything else to do."

"The bags under your eyes claim otherwise." 

Peter sighs in response, quickly realizing there was no way he would get Tony to believe him.

When nothing else is said, Tony hums in consideration, holding Peter even closer as he does so.

"Well, how about you go to sleep now? I'll wake you up when dinner is ready." 

Dinner was two stale pieces of bread and a bottle of water for each of them. It was better than nothing but it wasn't enough food even if Peter didn't have his metabolism to take into account. Nevertheless, the thought of eating causes Peter's stomach to growl, and Tony lets out a soft laugh.

He maneuvers their bodies so Peter's head is leaning against his shoulder, and Peter can't help himself as he sinks deeper, still listening to Tony's heartbeat as if it were a lullaby. 

He doesn’t mean to, but he lets out a contempt sigh. 

"Still not tired?"

Tony says it with humor in his tone, but Peter can't bring himself to care. For the first time in a while, his Spider-Sense wasn't going haywire, and the feeling of peace makes itself known as he closes his eyes.

The last thing he remembers before falling into oblivion is a kiss pressed against his forehead. The sensation is a complete foil to the gun that often digs into his temple, and he tries to savor the moment. 

He submerges to sleep before he fully can. 

\+ + +

Peter wakes up to chaos. 

He sits up instantly, physically shaking as his Spider-Sense tells him to fight, run, _do something_. 

He searches around the cell and is not shocked to find that he was alone. For a brief moment, he wonders if Tony had been nothing but a dream.

The sound of screaming distracts him, and the hairs on his arm stand straight up. He feels as if someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water on top of his head, yet he ignores the trembles in his body as he makes his way to the cell doors. He grabs onto the railing, almost crushing the metal as he does so. 

It would be so easy to break out of the cell, all he would have to do is pull at the lock and he could escape with Tony by his side.

Not for the first time, the temptation is overbearing as he feels his chest begin to tighten. His Spider-Sense taunts at him, being a constant reminder that something bad was happening and he was doing nothing to fix it.

But Tony had made it abundantly clear that he did not want Peter to use his powers. He said it was too dangerous, and even if they did break out there were too many guards to make it out alive. 

There’s another scream that rings in his ears, somehow louder than before, and suddenly Peter feels sick. 

He turns and falls to his knees with a loud thud, barely having time to catch himself as he begins to dry heave. 

For the first time, he’s thankful that he doesn’t have any real food in his stomach, not wanting to deal with the mess. Still, the lack of nutrients makes him feel weak, and he loses all energy as he lays on the cold, hard floor. 

From head to toe, everything hurts. He simultaneously feels hot and cold, light and heavy. Yet at the same time, his sixth sense begs at him to get up. 

This couldn't be his Spider-Sense warning him of danger, it was something worse. 

It takes him a couple of attempts to stand on his two feet. The cell continues to spin around him and he extends his hand forward, trying to grab onto something before he sinks back down. 

Eventually, he gives in. He lets the ground swallow him whole as he tries to gain control of his breathing. The screaming doesn't stop, and he thinks he joins in at one point. 

But then, right when he thinks he's about to pass out, everything stops. 

No more pain, no more noise rather than the sound of Peter's gasps for air. 

He lets out a cry of relief, and it takes him a minute to register the argument from the other side of the door. 

"Well, what the fuck are we supposed to do now." 

"Relax, we'll try again tomorrow. Give him some time to recoup." 

"I don't know Jack, he doesn't look too good." 

“And whose fault is that?”

"You were the one who-"

"Take him back to the cell, you two are wasting my time keeping him here."

Peter recognized the last voice. It was the woman who he’d recently learned was named Annabelle after eavesdropping on their conversations. 

Heavy footsteps approach the cell, and Peter is quick to comb the sweat-damp hair away from his forehead, attempting to look somewhat put together in the hopes that it will keep his dignity alive. Apparently it doesn't work, because the moment the door slams open the two guards stare down at him with distaste. 

"Damn son, who rained on your parade?" 

Peter doesn't answer, instead he examines the lifeless body hanging in their arms and tries not to break down in the process. Tony's head is tilted forward so he can't see the condition of his face, but the rest of his body appears worse for wear, with burns and bruises littered across his chest. 

"What did you do?" Peter hates the way his voice shakes, but not as much as he hates how they laugh in his face.

"He'll be fine, give it a day or two and he'll be back to talking our ears off." 

They move to open the cell door and don't waste a second as they throw his body forward. Peter is quick to catch Tony before his head can hit the ground, and the first thing he notices is how hot Tony’s skin feels against his own. The observation does nothing to calm Peter’s nerves. 

He doesn't want to look at Tony's face because he knows that was where most of the damage was going to reveal itself. Still, he owes the man at least that much after everything. Peter tries to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to witness, but not even his worst nightmares could contour the image in front of him. 

A combination of crimson red and charcoal black covers the majority of his forehead, making it painfully obvious where the machines were attached. The electrical burns go deep into his skin and appear non-treatable in the fluorescent lights. It hurts just looking at it. 

Peter tries to be gentle when he lays Tony down, doing everything he can to not think about how this could have happened. He turns back to face the guards, maybe beg for their help, but he finds himself alone yet again.

A new wave of hopelessness washes the anger out of Peter, and he bites his lip to prevent the sobs from escaping. 

But Peter couldn’t afford to break down yet. With stubbornness in the forefront of his mind, he pulls himself together as best as he can before making his way towards Tony, starting his far too familiar routine. He moves Tony’s head so it’s resting on his lap, and begins to count the beats per minute.

\+ + +

Two hours pass before Tony starts seizing. 

It takes too long for Peter to connect what was happening, and when he does he can’t help but freeze. He fights through the shock as he rushes to turn Tony’s body to the side, clearing the airway for him. Still, his brain feels like it's powered down as he only processes each twitch and spasm from the man below him. 

He calls out for help but no one comes. 

Peter doesn’t dare attempt to move or touch Tony, knowing that it was advised to give the person seizing their own space. He simply watches in horror at the sight before him.

He’s never felt more useless in his life. 

After a long minute, the seizing stops, and Tony falls limp like a rag doll. Peter presses his hand against his neck, searching for a pulse point just how he had the first day.

It’s there, faint and fast paced, but there nevertheless. 

Peter doesn’t hold back on his sobs this time around. 

Fortunately, no other seizures occur, yet he’s on edge for the rest of the night. A guard eventually arrives with dinner, though Peter doesn’t even think of eating the food despite how hungry he’s become.

Before the guard can shut the door, Peter asks him to stay. Maybe this guard was nicer than the rest, or maybe Peter truly looks pitiful as he stares up at the man, but for some reason he actually listens, walking forward until he stands in front of the cell. 

“What do you want?” 

There was a patronizing tone in his voice, but Peter takes the question in stride. 

“Tony needs medical attention- he’s not going to survive for much longer if this continues.” 

The guard only sighs in response, “you need to mind your business if _you_ want to survive this.” 

“Can’t you see that you’re killing him?” Peter’s tone has become desperate, and in any other situation he would have felt embarrassed by the way his voice cracks. He is well past the point of caring as he presses on.

“What’s the purpose of all this? This can’t be electroconvulsive therapy.”

The guard examines the state of both Peter and Tony, internally debating something in his head. Peter expects him to leave then with no further explanation, but much to his surprise he doesn’t.

“It’s all for a good cause, you’re too young to understand now but you will someday.”

Peter shakes his head, utterly shocked by the words coming out of his mouth. “I can’t think of any scenario where _you_ would be the good guy.” 

“Sometimes good deeds come with bad consequences. The world isn’t always black and white kid, you should know-”

 _“You’re killing him.”_

The guard is stunned by Peter’s outburst, and it takes all of his energy to keep the temper out of his voice. 

“You can justify this however you want, but it doesn’t change the fact that he won’t last another day if this keeps going. He had a seizure.” 

Finally, this holds the guard’s attention, and he peers down at Tony with curiosity in his eyes. “How many?”

“Three.” The real number being one, but Peter lies with the intent to convince the guard to help them.

And apparently it works, because the guard nods and says, “I’ll see what I can do.” 

He moves to leave once more, and this time Peter doesn’t try to stop him. For the first time since Peter woke up in the cell, he begins to hope. 

\+ + + 

Peter doesn’t remember falling asleep. 

He wakes up to someone insistently poking at his cheek, though he attempts to ignore it as he tucks his head further into his chest. He knows that he was going to have terrible neck pains in the morning, but at the moment he doesn’t care.

He almost falls back asleep until his Spider Sense warns him of an attack. As if it were second nature, Peter shoots his hand up and catches Tony’s wrist before he’s slapped across the face. 

At first he’s confused, but when he takes a good look at Tony all the events of the past day come rushing back to him. Any drowsiness that Peter was feeling disappears in an instant, and he jolts forward so quickly that he and Tony almost butt heads in the process. 

“Mister Stark, are you okay?” 

“Where are we?” 

Peter offers a bewildered glance, looking around to make sure they were still trapped in the cell. Grey walls stare back at him, and Peter can’t help but awkwardly laugh, not knowing how else to respond to the random question. 

The reaction does not sit well with Tony, and Peter is taken aback when he sees eyes grow dark with fury. 

“Is something funny to you?” 

“No, of course not.” 

Tony opens his mouth only to close it seconds later, examining him with a look that was unreadable even to Peter. Moments later, he stands up and walks to the other side of the cell, resting his back against the wall and letting out an aggravated sigh. 

“I'm sorry, I’m taking my anger out on you- I’m just real tired of this, you know?” Now it's Tony who laughs, though there’s no humor to it. He gazes at their surroundings with a bitter look before his eyes settle back to Peter. 

“So how did you get stuck here?”

Peter tilts his head, now even more confused. “What do you mean?” 

“Well you had to have done _something_ , it's not everyday you get kidnapped with Tony Stark.” 

Peter doesn’t answer. Instead, his brain runs on overdrive as he tries to process what was going on. His heart has already figured it out, beating fast against his chest to the point where it’s the only thing he can think about. 

“What do you mean?” Peter repeats, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

Tony doesn’t bother to hide his annoyance as he rolls his eyes. “I get it, you’re starstruck- not sure how to handle yourself.”

“Excuse me,” Peter begins to defend himself but he's blatantly ignored as Tony talks over him.

“Look, I promise to take a picture with you when all of this is over, I’ll even offer you an autograph- but first I need any information you know that can get us out of here.”

Peter is completely lost, but at the same time he isn’t. He already knows the answer when he asks his next question.

“Mister Stark, do you know who I am?”

Tony gives a baffled look in return, “have we met before?”

And that was all the confirmation Peter needed. He feels his heart drop to his stomach as the realization strikes him, and he’s certain that he’s gone pale in the face.

Tony doesn’t remember him.

Peter knew that this was a side effect to electroconvulsive therapy, though for some reason he hadn’t even considered the possibility while worrying about Tony for all those hours. 

He feels idiotic, naive for not fathoming this scenario. 

Suddenly, it’s difficult to breathe. He attempts to catch his breath yet it feels impossible as dread consumes his thoughts. He hears Tony’s voice from across the room, though for some reason it sounds distant- out of arm's reach.

“You need to calm down.” 

He doesn’t, but through his panicked state Peter is somehow able to find his voice, “Morgan- do you remember Morgan?” 

The silence that follows is loud in Peter’s ears, and he doesn’t know how to handle it. 

As difficult as it may be, he could learn to live with Tony not remembering him. It would hurt like hell but Peter was familiar with the feeling of loss. He could teach himself how to cope.

But Tony had to remember Morgan, that wasn’t even up for debate in Peter’s head. He loved his daughter, his _family_ , more than anything in the world. 

Morgan can’t grow up without a father. 

So, Peter tries again. 

“Morgan Stark, she’s your daughter- a brilliant little girl who’s a spitting image of you.” 

At that, Tony bursts into laughter. It sounds genuine enough with it escaping deep from his chest, but Peter could tell that it wasn’t real. It was much too loud, too practiced to be authentic. 

Of course, if Peter had been just meeting him for the first time like Tony assumed, he would have never noticed. 

He ignores the laugh and trudges along, moving closer to Tony and talking a mile a minute. It was a desperate attempt to get him to listen. 

“You’re married to Pepper Potts- you two had Morgan together and now you all live in a beautiful lake house with an alpaca.” 

“Alright kid, I’ve gotta stop you there. Pepper Potts would never insult herself by marrying me, that’s less believable than the daughter.” 

“But I’m telling the truth!” 

Tony laughs again, and this one was even more forced. His body language is tense, and it looks as if he wants to get as far away from Peter as possible. 

At the same time, he leans forward and whispers, “Listen, did they give you something while I was out? How many fingers am I holding up?” 

Tony proceeds to wave three fingers in his face and it takes all of Peter’s willpower not to swat the hand away. 

“You really don’t remember me?” The words sound small and pathetic yet Peter doesn’t back down. He looks into Tony’s eyes with the hope that a spark of recognition will dawn at the last second. 

Blank eyes stare back in return, “Sorry kid.” 


	3. Chapter 3

It’s silent for the next couple of hours, and neither Peter nor Tony look at one another as they sit on opposite sides of the cell. The tension could be spotted from miles away, and Peter tries not to think of the implication as he watches Tony restlessly fidget with his hands. 

Peter had debated breaking the silence a couple times in the past hour alone, though he didn’t know how to begin in a way that wasn’t forced or unnatural. 

As much as he didn’t want to admit it to himself, he was hurt. While it wasn’t Tony’s fault that he couldn’t remember who Peter was, a small, childish part of him wanted to blame the man entirely. 

He realizes that this is unreasonable, and he berates himself for even thinking of it. At the same time, he avoids eye contact, not wanting to be the one to initiate conversation. 

Eventually, the silence becomes suffocating on both of their ends, and Tony is the one to make the first move. 

“I never learned your name.” 

Peter looks away from the crack in the wall, staring at Tony with hesitation. It was strange knowing so much about the man in front of him and the other knowing nothing in return. It was only fair that he shared some information about himself. 

Still, he bites his tongue and stops himself from speaking out, though he isn’t sure why. Maybe it was because Peter was still mad at Tony for letting this happen in the first place, but that wasn’t true. He knew the real reason. 

The child in Peter believed that if he shared his name, then Tony would suddenly remember who he was. A flash of recognition would cross his face and it would all go back to normal. The cruel joke would be over. 

Of course, Peter realizes that this logic was ridiculous, and he doesn’t bother to entertain the idea. 

At least that’s what he tells himself. 

Peter ends up not responding, and to Tony’s credit he does try again. 

“Are we shy now?” 

Peter looks away, staring once more at the crack in the wall. He wonders how long it's been there.

Tony sighs, “I have a wedding ring.”

That is what inevitably grabs Peter’s attention. His head shoots back to Tony and he’s surprised to see the man holding up his wedding band, gazing at it with curiosity. 

“I didn’t believe you about the daughter- still don’t know if I do, in fact. I thought you were insane until I looked down and saw this little guy on my ring finger.” Tony tosses it in Peter’s direction, to which he easily catches with one hand. “You wanna tell me how that got there?” 

Peter examines the ring with gentle fingers, not meaning to ignore the question yet doing so anyway. 

Tony sighs again, finally seeming to give up. He leans his head back and continues to stare at the cell wall. It feels like a game of chess, with Tony waiting for Peter to make the next move. 

He decides to move a pawn.

“Peter Parker.”

Tony directs his attention back, seemingly shocked that he had gotten him to speak at all. He quickly erases the surprise off of his face, but Peter had already seen it. 

“Well that’s a fun name.” 

“Thanks.” 

There’s an awkward pause in the conversation, then Tony moves a pawn as well. 

“Where are you from Peter Parker?”

“Queens.” 

“Ah- a New Yorker, you like it there?” 

Peter nods, offering a tight lipped smile. Suddenly, he misses home more than anything.

He misses swinging around the city, only stopping to people-watch from the highest of skyscrapers. He misses experiencing the thrill of letting yourself fall, only to catch yourself seconds later. He misses after a long day of school and patrolling, heading back to the apartment just in time to greet May when she comes home from a late night work-shift. He misses May and her warm hugs and terrible cooking. 

He also misses Tony, despite the man sitting directly across from him. 

“I love New York.”

Tony nods in response, “same.”

It’s Peter’s turn to move a piece, and he decides to pick up his queen.

“What else do you wanna know?” Peter asks while throwing the wedding ring back to Tony, he catches it last second. 

“Are you serious?” 

Peter nods, placing his queen forward. “Sure, ask away.” 

“Alright then, tell me about yourself?”

Peter offers Tony a questioning look, to which he quickly laughs off. 

“Don’t act so surprised Parker- we’re going to be stuck here for who knows how long, might as well get to know my cellmate.” 

Peter supposes that makes sense. 

“Okay well, uh- I don’t really know where to begin.”

“How do you and I know each other?”

Peter liked this question, it was easy. 

“I’m an intern for Stark Industries, you recruited me a couple years ago.” 

To that, Tony offers a skeptical look. “That’s impossible, Stark Industries doesn’t hire interns.” 

Peter only shrugs, not knowing how else to reply.

“Am I a good boss at least?” 

Peter doesn’t know why he gets emotional at the question, yet he whispers his next words anyway, “the best.” 

Something softens in Tony’s face, and Peter can’t help but feel as if he had just called check. 

However, the game is interrupted when the door slams open, and a new set of guards enter the room. Peter immediately recognizes one of them and stands on his feet in an instance. 

“Did you bring help?” 

The guard at least has the audacity to look apologetic, “I talked to Annabelle and she said to keep a close eye but not to interfere. Sorry kid.” 

The news crushes Peter in a way that he didn’t know was possible, and he fights the urge to curl up in a ball and give up then and there. The guards open the cell door to grab Tony, but Peter steps in the way before they can get very far.

“He won’t live through another round, you can’t do this.” 

“Don’t make this more difficult for us kid.” One guard pushes Peter out of the way, and he quickly initiates Plan B.

“He doesn’t remember anything!”

The guards pause at that, examining Tony with new eyes. They must see the blankness on his face, because they glance at one another with worry. Peter uses the confusion to his advantage as he steps in front of the guards, shielding Tony’s body once more. 

“He has amnesia from your stupid experiments- whatever information you’re trying to get is lost.” 

It’s quiet for a moment, with everyone processing the news. The main guard is the one to first break the silence, suddenly grabbing at his belt. For a brief moment, Peter thinks he’s going to take his gun and shoot him on the spot. Instead, he holds a walkie-talkie to his mouth. 

“Hey Annabelle, you might want to come here- we have a situation.” 

He waits for a confirmation before putting the device down, then he moves to lock the cell doors. Peter distantly wonders if he should have used the opportunity to escape rather than fight with the guards. 

He turns to Tony, who was glaring at him with his arms crossed. He was clearly not amused by his show of bravery, and that alone proved to Peter that he had made the right decision.

Tony gently pushes Peter aside so he is the one now standing in front, whispering in his ear, “I don’t need protection Parker, I’m no damsel in distress.” 

Peter shrugs, “nothing wrong with damsels.”

The joke falls flat, and Tony only rolls his eyes as he turns his attention back to the guards.

“So when are we getting food cause let me tell you, I am _famished_.” 

No one answers the question. Instead, a female voice echoes the room and the guards turn to salute Annabelle. She strides in with her heels hitting the floor, and Peter feels anger boil in his stomach just from the sound alone.

“What is the holdup in here?”

The guards hesitate to answer, until a brave soldier volunteers last second. “Stark doesn’t seem to remember anything Boss.” 

Annabelle doesn’t waste a minute, walking towards the cell and looking Tony up and down. He stands tall as she does so, demeanor strong and confident even with the head wound on display. 

“Does he remember the kid?”

“No ma’am.”

She hums in consideration, almost in a taunting manner, before pulling out the pistol at her side and aiming it directly at Peter. The action is a surprise to everyone, and even the guards behind her seem to tense up. 

“I guess there’s no reason to keep you around then.” There’s a loud click that echoes the cell as she puts the gun off of safety mode. 

“Sorry sweetheart,” Annabelle says with no sympathy. 

Before she can pull the trigger however, one of the guards intervene. 

“ _Wait_ \- let's stop to consider this for a moment.” 

“Know your place Jack, unless you’re willing to take the bullet for him?” 

It’s no surprise that the guard doesn’t respond, and Peter squeezes his eyes shut to prepare himself.

He wishes that he could properly say goodbye to May; he knew that his death was going to destroy her. He wants to hug her and never let go, take in the smell of her Target brand perfume and commit it to memory. He longs to remind her that she is always loved by him, dead or alive. 

He also thinks about Ned, hoping that he would be able to move on without Peter by his side. The two had been so excited for their school trip coming up. The class was planning to visit Europe, and Peter and Ned had spent hours on his dingy computer looking up tourist attractions for when they got there. He hopes that Ned still goes even after Peter is gone. 

He was going to miss life, especially now that he had just gotten it back from the snap. However, maybe death wouldn’t be so bad after all. He could reunite with Ben, potentially even find his parents. He tries not to think of it as the end, but instead a new beginning. 

He prays for the first time in years, and waits. 

When a gunshot doesn’t follow, Peter peaks an eye open to see Annabelle now looking at Tony. 

“How about you, would you like to take a bullet for the kid?”

Tony hesitates, looking at Peter as if he were trying to solve a puzzle. The pieces don’t seem to align and he directs his attention back at Annabelle.

“Leave the boy alone, he’s an innocent bystander who has nothing to do with this.” 

Annabelle laughs at the words, recognizing them from the first day Peter and Tony were kidnapped. “So you really don’t remember?” 

Tony’s jaw clenches the slightest bit, but other than that no emotions reveal themselves as he shakes his head.

“And here I thought you were bluffing,” she laughs again, seemingly amused by the turn of events, “luckily for you, I can be compassionate.” 

Finally, she lowers the pistol and Peter can breathe again. Annabelle steps forward so she’s face-to-face with Tony, and her eyes threaten him without needing to say any words. Still, she drops her voice low so only Tony can hear, but Peter is still able to listen.

“I don’t want any problems from you from here on out, know that I will not hesitate to shoot your son whether you remember him or not.” 

She leaves with a dramatic exit, stomping the ground and expecting her minions to follow close behind. Of course they do, and Peter and Tony are left alone in seconds. 

Tony turns so he is facing Peter, looking as if he had just seen a ghost.

“You’re my son?” 

Maybe Peter was still in shock, or maybe he has reached the point where he simply doesn’t care anymore. Whatever the reason may be, he begins to laugh for the first time in weeks, the kind of laugh that has someone bent over and gasping for breaths by the end of it. 

Tony seems confused, but he wordlessly lets Peter have his moment to collect himself. 

Except that he doesn’t. Half way through the fits of giggles, Peter’s laughs turn into sobs, and he’s unable to pull himself together as he mourns the loss of the best thing he’s had since Ben. 

Because Peter saw it on Tony’s face, even if it was only there for a split second. He knew that Tony wasn’t willing to take a bullet for him, not anymore at least. 

He feels selfish for being this upset; just yesterday he was furious at Tony for the exact opposite reason. He would never want Tony to put his life at risk only to protect Peter, if anything he should be grateful by the change of heart. 

He takes a deep breath and wipes the tears away, forcing himself to calm down. Peter reminds himself not for the first time that he couldn’t afford to break down yet. 

In that moment, he decides to make the best of the situation. 

“What if I told you I knew a way to get us out of this cell?” 

Peter’s voice was still wet, though Tony was kind enough to ignore the tremble in it, “I’d ask why we’re still here.” 

Peter actually smiles, confusing Tony even more. 

“Mister Stark, I have something to tell you.” 

“Should I be worried?”

Peter laughs, and it sounds manic even to his own ears, “I’m Spider-Man.”

Tony’s mouth physically drops at the confession, and he stares at Peter as if he grew two heads. “Spider- _what?_ ”

“I’m a superhero,” he tries again.

“But you’re like twelve.” 

Peter scoffs at that, trying not to be offended. “I am seventeen years old.” 

“Word of advice, if you say _‘years old_ ’ after sharing your age, then you’re probably too young.”

“I’ll be eighteen in a month!”

“Not helping your case Parker.”

Peter doesn’t respond, instead he turns to the wall and begins to climb it. He makes it all the way to the ceiling before he jumps down, flipping back and landing in a squat in front of Tony. 

Tony stands there for a minute, looking simultaneously impressed and terrified of Peter’s show. Eventually, however, he finds his voice. 

“Alright, I’m listening.” 

And so, Peter finally pulls himself together and begins to form his makeshift plan. He knows that Tony would have never agreed to it if he still had his memories, and Peter uses the amnesia to his advantage. 

A part of him feels guilty, but he's certain that it’s the right thing to do. Tony wouldn’t survive another second in electroconvulsive therapy. 

Peter is willing to do whatever it takes, life be damned.


	4. Chapter 4

Peter stands at the front of the cell, bouncing on his feet as he anxiously waits for the door to open. 

Tony had been taken for experimentation ten minutes prior, and from there it was a waiting game for the plan to initiate. He listens closely, trying to hear what was happening in the other room, but the words are indistinguishable from where he’s standing. 

To distract himself, Peter begins to recite the decimals of pi, and he gets to twenty six numbers before the door actually slams open. He can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. 

“Stark’s being difficult- you know the drill.” 

And Peter did, almost too well. Tony was doing exactly what Peter had asked, which was to be as disruptive as possible when the guards prepared for the new round of electroconvulsive therapy. He knew that Annabelle would take matters to her own hands by requesting Peter’s presence, and a couple days ago it would have worked in getting Tony to cooperate. 

This time was going to be different. 

As the guards walk in to grab Peter, he fakes resistance until he is inevitably out of the cell and walking down the hall. Depending on what guards were on duty, they would either immediately press a gun to his head or they would wait until they were in the room with Annabelle. Peter is lucky for once in his life, because today’s guards only hold him so his arms were taut behind his back. 

It’s all too easy when Peter rams the first guard into the wall, knocking him out in one go. The other guard jumps into action, but Peter punches him square in the face before he can even lift a finger. The two guards fall limp at his feet, and Peter feels rejuvenated as he is finally able to defend himself.

He bends down immediately, searching for the walkie-talkie that all guards hold in their belts. He didn’t know if his plan was going to work, but there was no turning back now. Peter then pauses in his tracks, dreading what he was about to do next. 

He needs the pistol. 

Similar to ripping off a band-aid, Peter grabs the abandoned gun and examines it with careful fingers. He hates the weight of it against his palm, yet he still holds it close to his chest knowing that there was no other option rather than this one. 

He attempts to ignore the metal in his hand as he focuses back on the walkie-talkie. He holds it to his mouth, beginning the second part of the escape. 

But then, he freezes as his eyes catch onto something else. He leans forward and feels into one of the guard’s pockets, finding a Stark Phone in the process. 

The irony doesn’t go unnoticed to Peter. 

He attempts to gauge how much time he has to make a call, and at the last second Peter decides to take the gamble. He quickly dials Happy’s number, and he’s suddenly thankful that the man had forced him to memorize it all those years ago. 

The phone rings four times before Happy finally picks up, and Peter could almost cry just from the sound of his growl. 

“Who are you and how do you get this number?” 

“ _Happy-_ wow, is it good to hear your voice.” 

For a second the other line is silent, and Peter begins to worry that he had accidentally disconnected the call, but then Happy jumps into action, fulfilling his title as head of security. 

_“Peter?”_

“Yeah, it’s me. You would not believe-”

“Is Tony with you?”

Peter sobers up as he’s suddenly reminded of what was on the line. “He’s not with me but he’s here. He’s alive.” 

“Tell me anything you know of your whereabouts.” 

“Oh, okay- just give me a moment,” he hears Happy complain on the phone, but he chooses to ignore it as he begins to once again search the guards’ pockets. The first one has nothing useful but the second holds a wallet, to which Peter immediately opens and finds an identification card. 

“I think we’re in Nebraska, according to Christian Miller.” 

_“Who?”_

Peter looks again, searching for any more useful information to offer Happy. Unfortunately, all he finds is a twenty dollar bill and a gift card to Chipotle. 

“Yeah, that’s all I know.” 

Happy groans, and Peter hears shuffling from the other end of the line. While he waits for a response, he debates stealing the gift card in his hand, but decides that it would be morally wrong to do so. 

Happy breaks Peter out of his train of thought, “can you stay on the phone? I need time to track where you’re at.” 

“Sure, but I don’t think I can talk for much longer.” 

He answers with fury, “stay where you are, it’ll be easier to find you.” 

Peter wants to listen to Happy, but he knows that he can’t as the walkie-talkie comes to life, and suddenly Annabelle is yelling out of the speaker. 

“What is taking so long?”

Peter lets out a shaky breath, realizing that it’s now or never. He directs his attention back to the Stark Phone. 

“I’m sorry Happy but that’s not an option, I have to go.” 

He must hear the resolve in Peter’s voice, because he allows him leave with no further argument. 

“Just stay safe Pete.” 

Happy almost sounds worried, in his own, stern way, and the realization warms his heart

“I’ll try my best,” and with that he puts the phone away, hoping that he can keep his promise. 

Once Peter is alone, he takes a deep breath and motivates himself to actually speak into the walkie-talkie. 

The plan would only work if Annabelle wasn’t able to recognize the voice of her guards. Peter assumed that there were too many of them for her to be personally familiar with, yet there was no way of truly knowing until he tested it. 

He closes his eyes, preparing to be called out as a fraud. 

“We have a situation.” Peter attempts to lower his voice when he says it, and he can’t help but cringe at how fake it sounds. 

At the same time, Annabelle responds with anger, but there’s no suspicion in her tone. “What is it this time Miller?” 

The plan was actually working. 

It takes a moment for Peter to collect himself, and when he does he turns back to the walkie-talkie. He tries to say as few words as possible so there was less of a chance of getting caught. 

“The boy is gone.”

“What do you mean _gone_?”

Peter flinches back, pitying anyone who has ever had to take orders from Annabelle. The voice alone could leave a man petrified, and he has to remind himself that he’s faced worse villains. He was Spider-Man even without the mask on. 

“Some of the guards are out cold, he must have fought them and escaped.”

“That scrawny little thing- seems unlikely.” 

Peter bites down his scoff, “he’s not _that_ scrawny.” 

“Either way, call Jack and have him put the building on lock-down, the kid couldn’t have gone far.” 

“Maybe we should increase security at the entrance? That’s most likely where the kid will head.” 

Annabelle doesn’t respond for a moment, and in the meantime Peter feels his heart pounding against his chest. He had the raging suspicion that something bad was going to happen during their escape, but he didn’t think it would be this soon. 

She does eventually reply, though it isn’t what Peter wants to hear. 

“Leave security exactly how it is, the boy will come to us and then he can deal with the repercussions.” 

“Why do you think that?” Peter tries to sound casual, yet it’s difficult to do so when it feels as if his heart had stopped beating all together.

Annabelle answers like it's obvious, “he cares too much about Stark, there’s no way he would leave without him.” 

Peter hates that she’s right. 

He wanted the room with Tony to have as few guards as possible, though the chances of that now seemed unlikely. 

He suddenly feels stupid for thinking this plan would work to begin with. Peter could fight one or two guards easily, but this building was filled with men bigger than himself. Of course he had speed and agility on his side, but that was nothing when fighting against a bullet.

Peter considers giving up, waving the metaphorical white flag and accepting his loss, but then he sees it. 

Directly across the hall lays a bright red fire alarm, and the most juvenile of plans begin to form in Peter’s head. 

He runs over and pulls at it without thinking twice. Immediately, the alarms go off and the sound is deafening to Peter’s super hearing, yet he pays no mind to it as he continues to make his way towards Tony. 

Right away, a new guard speaks into the walkie-talkie, and Peter assumes that it’s the main comm. “Any confirmation if the fire is real?” 

Peter jumps on the line before anyone else can do so, trying to stay in character even when he feels his eardrums bursting into a million pieces. 

“The fire’s in front of me, I just saw the boy start one and it’s pretty big- I suggest leaving the building as soon as possible.” 

“If you’re there then put it out.”

“There’s nothing to calm it.” 

From there only commotion fills the main comms, and Peter can’t help but feel proud of his handiwork. People talk over one another yet no one truly knows what’s going on, not even himself. 

Eventually, however, Annabelle puts an end to the chaos. 

“Since when do we make our own orders?” The comms go completely silent, and no guard dares to actually answer her question. 

“No one is leaving this building until we find the boy. I don’t care if the fire is real or not, we are _not_ losing our hard work because a child decided to throw a hissy fit.” 

Peter thinks that now is as good of a time to follow through with his plan. He prays that the fire alarm was enough of a distraction to separate most of the guards, and he finally enters the room with Tony.

He recognizes it immediately, having been there before when the guards would use him as leverage. He sees the chair that Tony always sits in, strapped to a fancy electroconvulsive contraption that to this day still looked foreign to Peter.

He also sees Annabelle, sitting behind an array of screens and computers. Since the beginning, he’s wondered what information they were trying to gather through the unethical experiments, though he supposes he’ll never find out now. 

All this time, the pistol lays heavy in his hand.

Not wanting to waste another second, Peter takes the gun and aims it directly at the computers. It was the first time he’s ever shot at something, and he’s extra careful to make sure he’s accurate as he pulls the trigger.

Fortunately for him, the target is large, and he watches in shock as the screens completely shatter just like that. Sparks fly everywhere when the bullets smash into the technology, and he’s now certain that he has everyone’s attention. 

He locks eyes with Annabelle, and he’s surprised that she doesn’t kill him right then. She is the first to look away as she stares down at the mess before her, visibly distraught as she tries to salvage what little she has left of her data. 

Just as discussed the day before, Tony uses the distraction to his benefit as he tears himself away from the ECT chair, sprinting out of the room and beginning his chase for freedom. A couple of the guards are quick to follow, but with the fire alarm and Peter’s ruse, he’s confident that Tony will be able to escape with ease. 

If only the same could be said for himself. 

His Spider Sense warns him of danger, as if that much weren’t obvious as Annabelle begins to stand back up. He had fought countless villains throughout his time as Spider-Man, yet he has never quite seen that look of hatred in someone’s eyes. In that moment, he knew that Annabelle was looking for revenge, and she would do anything to get it. 

And so, Peter is finally able to listen to his sixth sense as he quite literally runs for his life. 

He’s not exactly sure where he’s headed as he sprints through the halls, and he can only hope that Tony was at least able to find the exit. Peter hadn’t really thought this portion of the plan through, so he blindly guesses left and right turns as he hears guards follow close behind.

Many try to catch him, but they don’t realize that they are up against a superhero. Peter loses the guards easily, and for a minute he idiotically believes that he’d actually make it out of here alive. 

That is until he runs straight into Annabelle, who doesn’t hesitate to shoot him on the spot. 

Peter falls to the ground in an instant, and suddenly he’s unable to register anything other than the overwhelming feeling of pain. The gunshot rings loud in his ears, somehow louder than the fire alarm, and he tries to cover them in a desperate attempt to block out the noise. 

He gasps for air, yet every time he does so he feels a stinging sensation gather in his torso. He attempts in vain to sit up, but immediately falls down when black spots dance along his vision. 

Peter can’t say he’s too surprised by the turn of events.

He had always known that he was going to die at a young age, it came with the territory of being a vigilante, but he never realized how truly terrified he was going to be when the time came. 

He would like to think Ben was up there waiting for him, but now that he was on the brink of death he couldn’t be so sure. The uncertainty scared him. 

Peter wants to be brave more than anything; he wants to make Tony proud even if he doesn’t remember who he is. However, he's only grateful that no one was around to witness his final cry, and he doesn't bother to contain his grief as the bullet wound overtakes his mind and thoughts. 

He’s actually happy that he was erased from Tony’s memories, at least it was one less person to mourn over his death. 

Peter closes his eyes, hoping to make his final moments as painless as possible. He tries to recite pi, but he can’t get passed the fifth number.

He thinks that this is the most pain that he will ever experience, but Peter is quickly proven wrong when he feels a heel press down against his torso. He snaps his eyes open to see Annabelle actually smiling down at him as she steps on his wound. 

He thinks he screams but he can’t tell anymore. 

There was an insane glint in her eyes that shakes Peter to the core, and he doesn’t want this to be the last thing he sees before his death. He squeezes his eyes shut once more, wishing that this would all pass over, However, the action is fruitless as he feels hands begin to caress his face, and he can’t help but look out in front of him. 

Annabelle’s face is closer than before, and she offers faux sympathy as she wipes the tears away from his cheeks. The hand that’s gentle quickly becomes ruthless as he’s slapped across the face.

“You ruined _everything_ for me- do you know how much planning went into all of this. I was going to be rich, I was going to change the world and win Nobel Peace Prizes.” 

Annabelle starts to cry with Peter, and it causes her mascara to run down her face. His eyes follow the tears until he notices that her lips are a bright red color, and it reminds him of the blood that now stains the tiled floor. He finds it fitting. 

Peter looks back up when Annabelle pushes a gun against his forehead.

If he could talk right now, he would have probably asked her to pull the trigger. Not because he wants to die, but he knows that he’s moments away from it. As of now, he would do anything to eliminate the all consuming pain. 

“A part of me is tempted to shoot a bullet through your skull, officially end your life just like you ended mine.”

Peter begins to nod, but she grabs onto his neck before he can do so, pulling him in a choke-hold. Then, she leans down and whispers into his ear. 

“Though I think that would be too generous of a goodbye, don’t you think sweetheart?” 

Annabelle moves the gun so it traces over his jaw, then it moves down to his chest until it is also pressing on the gun wound. 

Peter’s shocked that he has any more tears left to cry. 

She opens her mouth to say something else until her head snaps forward, and she all the sudden looks terrified as well. 

Annabelle is up in an instant, kicking off her heels and leaving with a final message, “rot in hell.” 

With that, she sprints in the other direction, though Peter isn’t exactly sure why. He tries to watch her leave but in an attempt to lift his head up all he sees is red. 

Peter distantly wonders if he had gone insane as well, maybe he could blame it on the blood loss if so. 

He knows that he has officially lost his mind when Iron Man enters his field of vision, and he stares with vague curiosity as Tony Stark materializes before his eyes. 

_“Peter."_


	5. Chapter 5

Peter doesn’t remember much.

He remembers laying on the ground, counting each breath he takes and begging for it to be his last. He remembers sirens, or maybe they were alarms? Peter couldn’t recall the details. However, he can practically feel the memory of hands squeezing the life out of him, choking him to death. 

He also remembers the replacement. New, calloused fingers gently brushing the tears away, pressing down on his wound and staining them in the process. He remembers a voice, coaching him through each pained wheeze and begging as well, not for it to end, but for Peter to open his eyes. 

He remembers Tony, staring down at him with such horror that Peter had assumed that it had all been a figment of his imagination. 

Though maybe it wasn’t a hallucination after all, because the next time Peter wakes up it isn’t Ben that he sees, but instead Aunt May.

He looks around the room to find that he’s in the medical wing, and it’s not until then that he hears the heart monitor beeping steadily at his side. Peter should find the sound to be comforting, for it was concrete evidence that he had somehow survived the escape, but instead he only feels aggravation as it reminds him of the alarms that rang in his ears before.

He focuses his attention back to May to see her sleeping on a plastic chair, seemingly unaware that she had fallen asleep to begin with as an opened book rests on her lap. Peter feels guilty that she had nodded off in such an uncomfortable position, and debates waking her so she can lay down in a real bed. 

He sits up to do exactly that, but he’s distracted when pain filters through his stomach just from the little movement. Peter can’t help it as he lets a choked gasp, and it’s loud enough to wake up May.

She practically jumps out of her seat, searching for Peter in an almost delirious manner. Once she sees him staring back with concern, she immediately breaks down into a fit of sobs. 

_“Oh, Peter.”_

He doesn’t like seeing May upset, especially when he was the cause of it. To try and make the situation better, Peter offers her a small smile, though he’s certain that it comes out as more of a grimace as he’s still exhausted. 

He ignores the ache in his bones as he attempts to sit up, but May stops him by pushing him back so his head rests against the overly soft pillow. After so many nights of sleeping on the granite floor, the sensation feels strange to Peter. 

Still, he pays no mind to it as he tries to comfort May, “are you okay?” 

To that, she rolls her eyes and lets out a snort. It was clear that she was still distraught, but she tries her best to pull herself together for Peter. 

“My baby boy gets shot and the first thing he asks is if _I’m_ okay.” 

At the reminder of the gunshot, Peter looks down to see an array of stitches along his torso, and suddenly all of the details come rushing back to him. He bolts out of bed at the realization, but May catches him before he can get very far. 

“ _Tony-“_

“Is _f_ _ine,_ everyone is safe thanks to you.” 

Peter blinks back, confused of how that was possible. His Spider Sense had been warning him since the beginning that something terrible was going to happen, and because of that he had assumed there was no chance that both himself and Tony would escape the cell alive. 

May must see the lost expression on Peter's face, because she’s quick to erase it by leaning over and kissing his forehead, “I actually think Spider-Man may have had something to do with it.” 

At that, Peter feels a surge of affection, and he’s suddenly reminded of the promise he made himself if he ever got to see May again. 

He pulls her into a hug as best as he can, though it’s difficult since his arms don’t seem to lift up all the way. Fortunately, May takes the hint as she repositions herself, and then they fit perfectly next to each other. 

“I love you,” Peter whispers into her shoulder. He feels rather than hears May exhale, and she offers him another kiss but this time on his temple. 

“I missed you so much Peter, more than you know,” he hates the way her voice shakes when she says the words, and he tries to hold her tighter to his chest. 

“How long was I gone anyway?” 

“You were in the cell for two weeks and in the med bay for another. We missed your birthday,” May sounds devastated when she says this. 

Peter doesn’t know how to respond to the information, so he decides not too. He finds it odd that he was only kidnapped for two weeks, since it had felt like so much longer while he was there. 

He holds May close, trying to brush it off as if it were only a nightmare. 

Eventually, May leans back to take a good look at Peter’s face. She combs the hairs away from his forehead and he can’t help it as his eyes flutter shut with the movement. 

But then he imagines other hands. Hands that hold a gun to his face and show no mercy as they trace over his jaw. 

Peter’s eyes snap back open. 

May notices the way his shoulders tense up all the sudden, and the question is clearly written on her face as she pulls back. Before she can voice it however, the door swings open and Tony enters the room in a haze. 

Immediately, Peter sees white bandages that wrap around his forehead, and he’s more than grateful that Tony was at least treated while he was out cold. 

There’s an uncomfortable beat of silence as everyone takes in one another, and it’s not until Tony clears his throat that the spell is broken. 

“Sorry to interrupt- FRIDAY informed us that Peter was awake and I had to see it for myself.” Tony awkwardly laughs after that, and the action is so unlike him that Peter has to give a double-take. 

May offers one as well before it resolves on her face, and then she’s standing up to find her book off the floor. “I’ll give you two a moment alone then.” 

She begins to walk out of the room before Peter grabs her hand last second, and while he knows it’s a childish thing to do, he can’t bring himself to care. He doesn’t want to be in the room alone with Tony, or at least not when it still hurts to look him in the eyes. 

As if reading his mind, May offers a sympathetic smile but still lets go, “I’ll be back as soon as possible, I just need to use the bathroom.” 

Everyone knew that she was lying, but Peter allowed her leave anyway, realizing that there was no way to escape the conversation with Tony.

She walks out swiftly, and it's not until the door clicks shut that Tony begins to move towards the bed. He does it with hesitation, and the observation hurts Peter more than it should have. 

He takes the chair that May had abandoned, and Peter wonders if he’s imagining the way Tony stares down at him as if he were a dream. 

This time, Peter is the one to break the silence. “How’s the head?” 

Tony offers a tight lipped smile in response, “lots of bruising that made Morgan cry when she first saw it, but other than I’d say it’s healing well enough.” 

He stares back, not sure if he had heard him correctly, “Morgan?”

Luckily for Peter, Tony hears the question that he is too afraid to ask, “yeah kid, I remember now.” 

The news is shocking, and for some reason he can’t bring himself to believe it. It seemed too good to be true, and good things never happen in Peter. He wasn’t bitter about the fact anymore, he simply has come to accept it as a part of life. 

Tony must see the skepticism in Peter’s face, because he lets out a chuckle that holds no humor to it. Then, he moves his hand over so it’s laying on top of Peter’s.

“No one else knows about amnesia, so how about we keep it between you and me? No need to make everyone worry for nothing.” 

Peter nods as if his brain were on autopilot, “yeah, of course.” 

Tony nods as well, and he looks ready to say something but seemingly decides against it.

Instead he asks, “how much do you remember from the escape?” 

And Peter doesn’t remember much, only eyes that look at him with such hatred and insanity that Peter assumes he will find them again in his nightmares. 

He decides to ignore the question and instead ask his own, “what ever happened with Annabelle?”

At the mention of her name, Tony’s own eyes darken with fury. 

“You don’t have to worry anymore, I took care of it.” 

Peter suddenly feels sick to his stomach, “you didn’t kill her, did you?”

“No, but I kinda wished I had.” 

He looks to see if Tony was joking, yet no humor reveals itself. Tony notices the stare and lets out a sigh, offering a real answer.

“Everyone involved was locked up two days ago, the operation was put to an end as soon as you destroyed it, and from there it was all a matter of legalities.” 

“What were the experiments even for?” 

Tony sighs, “Annabelle thought she could record my brain chemistry for artificial intelligence, she wanted to store my knowledge so if any threat like Thanos came along in the future, we would be prepared.”

Peter tries to understand this logic, but it’s missing too many pieces, “but that doesn’t even make sense, you can’t copy and paste someone’s brain.”

Tony smiles at that, one that shows all of his teeth and makes Peter feel light, “It’s good to know I’m not the only sane one around here. Since the beginning I’ve tried telling them I’m not a fax machine but no one would listen to me.”

Peter nods and glances down at the hand that was still holding his own. At one point that same palm was covered in his blood, and the image doesn’t leave his head. He regrets it when he lets go of Tony, but he couldn’t bring himself to hold on for any longer. 

Then, he asks a new question. 

“How did you know I was in trouble that night?” 

Tony shakes his head in response, and the smile disappears, “Calling that ‘ _in trouble’_ would be putting it lightly.” 

Peter offers a laugh, yet Tony doesn’t seem amused. He feels his eyebrows scrunch together as Tony refuses to look him in the eyes. Instead, he stares directly at the heart monitor as if it held the answers to all of his questions.

Still, Peter tries again, “but there’s no way you could have just known, right?”

Tony sighs in response, realizing that Peter wasn’t about to let it go, “let’s just say it was smart of you to call Happy when you did.” 

A rush of pride flows through Peter’s chest, and he can’t help but smile, “thanks.” 

Tony looks to Peter again, and there’s disbelief clearly written on his face as he reiterates his point. 

“If you hadn’t called Happy you would be _dead_ right now.” 

“Well it’s a good thing I called then.” 

Peter doesn’t know what he’s saying to make Tony look so angry with him, and he’s nothing but confused as the man seems ready to punch a wall.

“Are you serious right now?”

“With all due respect Mister Stark, but I don’t see the problem. It’s not like I actually died.”

“You were _shot_.”

“But I’m still alive!” 

That clearly wasn’t the right thing to say, because now Tony looks livid as he begins to raise his voice. 

“Don’t say it like it’s an accomplishment, the bar is _low_ if that’s your only concern.” 

“That’s not true, I was concerned about you as well.” 

_“That’s not your job.”_

No one speaks for a second, and the silence is heavy in the room. Then, Tony seems to physically deflate as he covers his mouth with trembling hands.

“What if I didn’t get there in time, huh? What if Annabelle had aimed higher and shot you in the head?” 

“I would have figured it out,” Peter didn’t believe what he was saying, but he shares it in the hopes that it would appease Tony. The comment only seems to have the opposite effect however. 

“Don’t feed me that bullshit, you knew exactly what was at risk when you made your stupid plan.”

“That _‘stupid plan’_ was the one that saved your life!”

“ _At what cost._ I thought you were already dead when I found you laying on the ground like that.”

Peter feels guilt from the admission, yet the stubborn part of himself presses forward anyway, refusing to be talked down to after everything they’ve been through. 

“I face life or death situations everyday, it’s not like any of this is new- and need I remind you that _you_ were the one who agreed to the plan in the first place.”

While Tony had been furious, there was still a calmed and resigned aura to him while they were arguing. After Peter says those words however, the collectiveness completely disappears. 

“And how many times did I tell you not to put yourself in danger- since the beginning I begged you to let me handle it, and then the moment I forget who you are you use it to your benefit. You manipulated me into thinking you could handle thirty guards at once.” 

“I’m a _superhero-_ ”

“That doesn’t make you _invincible_ Peter _-_ you can’t tell me that you actually thought you would make it out of that cell alive.”

Peter wants to fight back, but he no longer knows what to say. Because as much as he hated to admit it, Tony was right, and Peter knew that by using himself as a distraction it would most likely end in his demise.

In full transparency, Peter had accepted his death the second he woke up in that cell, especially if it allowed Tony to live another day. He tries to vocalize this, but he gets choked up as he does so. 

“If you went through one more experiment it would have killed you. I’m sorry for scaring you but I’ll never regret saving your life, even if it means risking my own in the process.” 

“Peter-”

“I saw a way to get you out and followed through with it. There's nothing else to say.” 

He expects an anger-fueled response out of Tony, but instead he leans back in his seat and offers a wet sigh. 

“When Annabelle referred to you as my son, I actually believed her for a second.”

Peter doesn’t answer, confused by the subject change but allowing Tony to continue anyway.

“I may not have remembered who you were, and for that I’m so sorry kiddo, but at the time I saw a boy who looked so broken, and I was willing to do anything to see a smile on his face, even if I didn’t understand why.” 

Peter blinks back, not exactly sure how to process this information. Tony must see his puzzled expression because he begins to explain more. 

“You were so sad in that cell, and you wouldn’t talk or even look at me. Meanwhile, all I wanted was to learn your name.” 

“It’s not your fault that you lost your memories though, you were a victim.”

Tony chuckles but it comes out as bitter, “Still, I wasn’t thinking as a parent, and because of that it almost cost your life.”

He moves his hand so it brushes against Peter’s cheek, and the feeling is nice. He lets it ground him.

“Pete, I don’t want you to think that you're expendable, and you know I would have never agreed to the plan if I had remembered just how important you are. I'll choose you over myself every time.”

Now Tony was crying, and it was strange to witness the man that Peter has always seen as strong and confident to break down before his eyes.

“I've already lost you once and I _can’t_ lose you again, you have to understand that.”

Peter doesn't retaliate, instead he opens his arms in a weak attempt to gather Tony in a hug. Similar to May, Tony understands what he is trying to do and moves forward to cling onto Peter, sobbing into his shoulder as he does so. 

Tony had comforted Peter so many times while they were in the cell, yet he hadn’t once broken down during their captivity. It all seems to rush out of him in an instant, and Peter can only rub his back as Tony grieves in his own way. 

“I’m so sorry,” Tony repeats his apology like a mantra, and no matter how many times Peter says it’s okay the man doesn’t stop. There was no personal space between the two of them, yet Peter can’t bring himself to mind even when Tony leans onto his stitches. 

He thought he had permanently lost this.

Peter begins to cry as well, and the two comfort each other as they reflect on the past two weeks. There was still a lot of healing to do on both of their ends, and if Peter were being honest he was a little scared to fall asleep that night, but he knew that they would get through it together. 

He doesn’t have good luck, never has and had come to accept his fate at a young age. However, he thinks Tony gaining his memories back made him the luckiest guy in the world. 

So, Peter hugs just a little tighter, for once being the one to whisper reassurances in Tony’s ear as they hold each other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! We have officially reached the end of this fic and I just wanted to give a huge thank you to everyone who has read, commented, and/or kudoed this story. I’m admittedly not the biggest fan of the last chapter, but I hope you liked it anyway. Throughout the past six months, writing has become a huge hobby of mine, and seeing such a positive reaction from other readers on this website has really encouraged me to keep doing what I enjoy. Thank you again, and I hope this fanfic has brought at least one person entertainment during these difficult times in quarantine!

**Author's Note:**

> I also decided to make a Wattpad account! I'm going to try and gain a following there (which is something I never thought I would say, thirteen year old me would be so proud right now) so if anyone uses the platform feel free to give me a follow! My username is samos7, and not trying to flex but my profile is pretty cute ;)
> 
> https://www.wattpad.com/user/samos7


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